Dean Thomas and the Quest for Butterbeer
by Nikademus
Summary: It's the end of term, and Dean and Seamus take on the task of throwing a party for Gryffindor


Ever since Fred and George Weasley's epic exit from Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, a black hole seemed to have sucked the life out of Gryffindor common room. At no other time was their absence missed more than when Gryffindor won the Quidditch Cup. The Victory Party was a boggart of the festivities that shook the tower two years ago. Lee Jordan suffered from seventh yearitis, which meant he was just not that interested in Hogwarts anymore. That apathy extended toward party planning. Since the twins had left Lee was not himself. He still felt guilty about Umbridge accusing Hagrid of putting nifflers in her office (it was Lee who pulled that prank). The time had come for the younger Gryffindors to step onto the proverbial Quidditch pitch and carry the torch of fun, revelry, and buffoonery.  
  
While Harry Potter, Hermione Granger, Ron and Ginny Weasley, Neville Longbottom, and Luna Lovegood raced across the sky on the backs of thestrals, there was important work to be done at Hogwarts. OWLs were finished. The term was coming to a close. It was time to celebrate. Oblivious that six members of the D.A. were flying to London to rescue the convicted murderer Sirius Black from the Dark Lord, Dean Thomas and Seamus Finnigan had a rescue mission of their own to perform. They had to save Gryffindor from boredom's death grip. They had to breathe life back into the common tomb, as they had come to call it.  
  
Dean and Seamus sat in the plush chairs facing the fire that Harry, Ron, and Hermione normally hogged. They stared at three rather small columns of coins and wondered how they were going to transform the money into enough Butterbeer for all of Gryffindor. The Weasley Twins usually showed up with a dozen cases of the popular beverage, but Seamus and Dean figured they only had enough Galleons and Sickles for half that.  
  
"I still can't believe Potter didn't donate to the cause," muttered Seamus. He had harbored a grudge against Harry through most of the year, and Dean hated to see it return.  
  
"Look mate, Harry was pretty preoccupied when we told him about the party. You saw the fit he had during the History of Magic exam. I reckon you'd be a bit off if You-Know-Who was after you," Dean said firmly. "Let's stick to the task at hand. We should worry about how we're going to get the party favors first. Harold Dingle is charging an arm and a leg for that swill he calls Firewhiskey. There isn't enough Butterbeer in the castle for a proper dusk-till-dawn celebration, and we can't exactly stroll off the grounds to Hogsmeade and back with a load of it. I wish I knew how the twins did it!"  
  
"Yeah, me too. There's only one person who might know," said Seamus thoughtfully. "I think it's high time Lee Jordan stops feeling sorry for himself and salvages his final days at Hogwarts."  
  
It turned out Lee was in better spirits now that his NEWTs were over and done with. Dean and Seamus found him packing some of his possessions into his trunk. Lee was ready to start the next chapter of his life. For seven years he had bled the red and gold colors of Gryffindor, but those years were now tainted due to Dolores Umbridge and her regime. It was a bitter end to an otherwise excellent life.  
  
"I wish I could help you boys, I really do," Lee said while he folded his dress robes, "but Fred and George didn't reveal all of their tricks. They told me how to get into the kitchens, but I never could wring their covert trips to Hogsmeade out of them."  
  
"Gits," said Seamus and Dean together.  
  
"Not really. I mean, the more people who know about a secret passage, the less of a secret it becomes, you know," Lee reasoned with uncharacteristic wisdom. "I reckon I kept a few secrets from them, too. Anyway, there is one passage that they told me about, and it leads right into Hogsmeade. The only problem is its entrance is beneath the Whomping Willow. That's probably why they told me about it, because it's impossible to use. Sorry mates. I think you might be better off just spiking pumpkin juice with Harold Dingle's Firewhiskey."  
  
The sun still hung above the western horizon; a huge Butterbeer colored sphere reminding them that they had less than two hours before their party began. The Whomping Willow stood before them, menace emanating from every bough, malevolence from every leaf. It nearly swatted Dean like a fly, but both young wizards stood out of its reach. After circling the guardian tree twice, Dean and Seamus returned to the spot where they thought the entrance was most likely to be. Between two gnarled roots was a black hole, as inaccessible to them as the setting sun.  
  
Seamus, completely frustrated, stooped to the ground. He picked up a stone and flung it at the tree, imparting a few choice words at the Whomping Willow that would have earned a slap from his fiery mother. The stone hit a knot, and dropped to the ground. The air seemed to change. A shudder went through the branches of the tree, and the tension in the air, palpable a moment before, seemed to evaporate. Dean bravely took a few steps forward, and the tree remained motionless. He took a few more, and still it did not move to crush him. Dean and Seamus looked at each other. They broke into the fastest sprint of their lives. A diving roc would not have caught them, and they reached the base of the tree without incident.   
  
"Flagrate," Seamus said and drew in the air with his wand. A fiery 'X' appeared on the knot where his stone struck. With a "Lumos" the end of their wands lit like torches and they plunged into the dark opening that they hoped would lead to Hogsmeade. It occurred to them that perhaps the Weasleys were pulling a joke on Lee Jordan, but there was nothing to be done now other than to see the rough passage to its end.  
  
They jogged. It was difficult to judge how long the tunnel was, but they were out of breath by the time they reached its end. A flight of jagged stairs was cut into the stone and earth. Caution, mingled with a twist of fear, seized Dean and Seamus. Like a couple of white mice trying to evade Mrs. Norris, the young wizards crept up the steps and came to a trapdoor. They raised it an inch; the hinges squealed alarmingly. Seamus peered around through the gap. All he saw was dust, cobwebs, and debris. Light from the setting sun stained the dusty floor. It looked a little like blood. Seamus and Dean climbed through the opening and found themselves in a room that seemed to have housed a cyclone. The furniture was smashed into kindling, the walls bore deep gashes, and the upholstery was torn to rags. Clouds of dust rose from where they stepped.  
  
"Let's get out of here, this place gives me the creeps," said Seamus. Dean coughed his agreement. They quickly found their way to the door. It was barred, but that slowed them very little. They scrambled outside and were shocked to the core to see that they had just left the Shrieking Shack. Dean and Seamus pelted down the lane as if every wraith in Britain was at their heels.  
  
They didn't stop running until they got to Scrivenshaft's Quill Shop. Seamus doubled over, on the verge of passing out. Despite possessing the endurance of a soccer player, Dean was as winded as the hippogriff that just flew across the Atlantic in under two days. Once they caught their breath, the young men raised their hoods, in case any staff from school happened to be visiting the little village. They made their way to the Three Broomsticks, which was a popular tavern where they could purchase Butterbeer. With the fright over the Shrieking Shack behind them for the moment (they did, after all have to get back to Hogwarts), their attention returned to their quest. Not even the group of Welsh Wood Nymphs that rushed past could distract Seamus and Dean.  
  
"So, I'm thinking you could sweet talk Madam Rosmerta into cutting us a deal on Butterbeer," Seamus was saying. "Women seem to fancy that afro of yours for starters." They still had the problem of not having enough money for a sufficient amount of Butterbeer.  
  
"Yeah, right. Ginny'd turn me into a newt if she found out. Plus I'm not the one who went with Lavender Brown to the Yule Ball. You're the ladies' man, Finnigan. Rosmerta's like 60, anyway," Dean pointed out. Madam Rosmerta ran the Three Broomsticks, so the students of Hogwarts held her in high esteem. Her curvaceous good looks endeared her to the young male wizards all the more.  
  
"What does it matter how old she is? Witches look young for ages," Seamus replied.  
  
"True. Your mum's proof of that," joked Dean with a wicked grin.  
  
"Let's leave me mam out of this," Seamus snarled. Nothing made him angrier than Dean (or anyone for that matter) saying how good looking his mother was. Dean knew this, but at times he found it necessary to needle his friend. Seamus muttered something unintelligible and the matter was dropped. They reached their destination in silence.  
  
It looked like the ghosts of the Shrieking Shack had visited the Three Broomsticks. The front doors lay in a heap on the ground. Tables were overturned, and chairs lay broken on the floor. Shattered crockery made a kind of abstract mosaic on the floor, and the pictures that decorated the walls were in various stages of ruin. A broom swept the floor on its own accord, while a mop dipped itself in a bucket. Rosmerta cleaned the bar with a rag, her expression deadly. Her eyes softened a bit when she saw the two Hogwarts students standing in the doorway.   
  
"Bar's closed, boys," she stated. "Shouldn't you be at school anyway? Term doesn't officially end for another couple of days."  
  
"Leaping leprechauns, Madam Rosmerta, what happened in here," Seamus asked in bewilderment. Rosmerta snorted and slopped dwarfish rum off the counter onto the floor. The mop quickly hoped over and soaked up the puddle.  
  
"I would rather have dealt with leaping leprechauns. But oh, no," the pretty witch huffed. "This, my lads, is what happens when a herd of satyrs stumbles upon a gaggle of wood nymphs. I've never seen such boorish behavior." She launched into vivid account of what happened while Dean and Seamus repaired the broken chairs. Rosmerta suspected that the satyrs had been stalking the wood nymphs for some time, and planned to trap them at the pub. The satyrs, wearing long robes and hoods to hid their goat-hoofed legs and pointed little horns, arrived before the nymphs. The obnoxious sylvan creatures ran up a huge tab at the bar consuming a lake's worth of Guinness Butterbeer. With each round, they grew more and more boisterous, often breaking into crude drinking songs accompanied with a lewd sort of jig. Too late, Rosmerta realized her predicament. She tried to shoe her rowdy patrons out the door, but at that moment the Welsh Wood Nymphs flounced into the Three Broomsticks.  
  
Satyrs are powerfully magical in their own fashion. The doors slammed shut just as the nymphs turned to flee. Giggling wildly, the wood nymphs hurled mugs, chairs, pitchers, and whatever else wasn't nailed down at their pursuers. The satyrs roared with laughter, especially when their leader was knocked senseless by a barstool. With him down, the enchantment holding the doors closed weakened to the point where Rosmerta was able to blow them off their hinges. The wood nymphs flitted out the door while the satyrs collected their leader.  
  
"And they never did pay their tab, either. Days like this make me want to pack it in and sell this place. But my father worked so hard to build the Three Broomsticks that I would die of shame if I sold the family business. Look at what they did to his portrait." She sniffled as she took down a picture that hung behind the bar. The picture of her father must have overlooked the whole establishment, but now the paint ran together, and her father was squashed in the upper corner to avoid getting smeared. Dean stepped closer and ran his finger along the frame absently. His attention was on the painting.  
  
"I could probably restore this for you. Professor Flitwick taught me how to charm paintings this year. For Christmas I made an animated picture of me and my step-sister for my mum. This should be no trouble at all," Dean said enthusiastically. He was a very talented artist, possibly the best in Hogwarts. A smile flickered across Rosmerta's features. She handed the painting to Dean.  
  
"If you can pull it off, drinks will be on the house for the rest of your life," she said to Dean. He and Seamus looked at each other. They were thinking the same thing.  
  
"Tell you what," Seamus bargained, "if you give us twelve cases of Butterbeer for 12 Galleons and 14 Sickles, we'll call it even."  
  
"Done!" she grinned. "Accio, Butterbeer." A dozen glorious cases of Guinness Butterbeer sped up the stairs from the cellar and stacked themselves neatly in front of the boys.  
  
"Wingardium Leviosa," Seamus swish and flicked his wand. The cases of Butterbeer hovered a couple of feet off the ground, enabling him to push it along as if it were in a Muggle shopping cart. Dean carried the portrait. With a wave, they left Madam Rosmerta to her cleaning and headed back toward the Shrieking Shack. Their fear began to return. They hoped they could slip in and down the trapdoor before any of the haunts noticed their presence. Their hearts were beating fast, pumping adreneline through their veins.  
  
It was now quite dark, and Dean and Seamus were very late for their own party. They turned down a street and passed the Hog's Head. Dean had been in there once before. The very first DA meeting was held in the filthy inn. It was that day that he realized how much he liked Ginny. When she arrived with Michael Corner, jealousy rose like a cobra in the pit of his stomach. The Hog's Head was a strange choice for a meeting place. It was known for attracting a less than savory clientele base. In fact such clients were before them. Dean spotted movement in the alley and stopped dead. He motioned to Seamus to halt and keep quiet.  
  
Two large, heavily cloaked men pinned a third man in the corner. The taller of the two assailants punched the cowering man in the face. He collapsed and received several kicks to his body for good measure. The tall man yanked his victim into a sitting position by the hair. Blood poured from his face, and his eye began to swell shut.  
  
"P-please, sir. I have a wife and...and a son. Spare me," the beaten man begged. The big men roared with laughter. Dean put the painting down and Seamus floated the Butterbeer to the ground. As members of the DA, they were trained for moments like this, but neither thought that moment would come so soon. The broader of the two thugs stopped laughing and spoke.   
  
"Arr. Remember the last time someone from the Department for the Control of Dangerous Creatures begged for the Dark Lord's mercy from us?" he rumbled.  
  
"Yeah. Heh heh. He had a wife and a son, too. You probably heard of him. You took his spot in that department, didn't you Hawkins?" The tall man said to the battered man who was beginning to whimper. "Never did find Lennox Thomas's body, did they. Naw, how could they, after we fed it to one of them beasts he was supposed to control. The same end is waiting for you if you don't start cooperating with Death Eaters." They laughed again, a stark contrast to Hawkins' crying. Dean and Seamus looked at each other in shock. Death Eaters in Hogsmeade! The evil rumors were beginning to hit very close to home indeed. Dean pointed his wand at the back of the tall Death Eater. Seamus hesitated a moment, then pointed his at the wider man.  
  
"Stupefy!" shouted Dean. A bolt of red light shot from his wand and hit his target square in the back. The man collapsed to the ground. The other Death Eater whipped around and raised his wand to attack. His hateful eyes glittered from the slits in the black cowl he wore over his face.  
  
"Expelliarmus!" Seamus attempted to disarm the Death Eater, but his jinx fired wide. Seamus attended only one D.A. meeting, and his skills were certainly not up to scratch. Fortunately, Dean's were. Their enemy fired a stunner of his own wide, and before he could cast another hex, Dean hit him with a Body-Bind Curse. Rigid as a statue, the man fell backwards over the balled up form of Hawkins. The agent for the Department for the Control of Dangerous Creatures seized a wand and Disapparated without so much as a 'Thank you'. Dean started to walk toward the immobilized Death Eaters, but Seamus grabbed his cloak and pulled him away. He pushed Madam Rosmerta's painting into his friend's hands.  
  
"Are you mental! Let's get out of here! Blimey, Death Eaters behind us, the Shrieking Shack ahead. What's next, an army of banshees?" Seamus gasped as he sprinted down the lane pushing the Butterbeer with one hand and pulling his friend with the other. Dean kept looking over his shoulder as if he wanted to have another go with the Death Eaters. It was a good thing that they approached the Shrieking Shack at a run. They did not have time to let their fear and better judgment take hold. Without pause they crashed through the door, careened down the hallway and practically dove down the hole in the floor. The trapdoor slammed shut behind them, leaving the duo in total darkness.  
  
They were too tired to even jog down the secret tunnel back to Hogwarts. They walked along in silence, each young man lost in thought. Dean could not stop thinking about the name that the Death Eaters mentioned: Lennox Thomas. He tried to convince himself that Thomas was a common surname, that there were probably loads of Muggles and Wizards alike with that last name. Dean was raised on the belief that his father abandoned he and his mother when he was very young. His stepfather raised Dean as his own, but there was a certain longing and resentment buried deep inside Dean. Was it possible that his father wasn't the deadbeat he had always thought?  
  
Seamus crawled out of the opening beneath the Whomping Willow first, and immediately swatted the X marked knot. The branches that reared back to pummel him relaxed. With Dean's help they got the Butterbeer through the gap and began the last leg of their journey. Sneaking through the castle at night with a dozen cases of Butterbeer would have seemed dangerous two hours ago. But after facing the Whomping Willow, stumbling through the haunted halls of the Shrieking Shack, and dueling two Death Eaters, sneaking banned beverages through Hogwarts was a piece of cake. Seamus had an idea anyway, which he imparted on Dean.  
  
They split up. Dean headed for the main entrance. The halls were strangely deserted. It was as if the whole castle was holding its breath. He passed the Fat Friar, who smiled amiably at him, but he didn't see another soul, living or dead, until he stepped through the portrait hole of the Gryffindor common room. Students chattered quietly with each other. Every head turned to face him, and the looks of relief were obvious. Something was amiss.   
  
"What's up," Dean said to Lavender, who had pushed her way through the crowd to hug him. There were tears in her eyes. In fact there were tears in a lot of the students' eyes, now that he noticed. He led her to the window, where Parvati met them. Dean opened the window and let out a whistle. Below they could barely make out the outline of Seamus waving his wand. A minute later a dozen cases of Butterbeer levitated up to them. With the help of the Creevey brothers, the Butterbeer was moved inside while Lavender filled Dean in on everything.  
  
"First they transferred Professor McGonagall to St. Mungo's this afternoon. I heard that Madam Pomfrey said she was at death's door after getting hit by four Stunners in the chest at her age. We've already lost Dumbledore and Hagrid! And now Harry, Hermione, Ron, Ginny, and Neville are missing. We all thought you and Seamus were missing right along with them." Lavender sobbed. Colin Creevey handed Dean a Butterbeer. He absently took a swig. It heated his blood, but stopped short of giving him a happy rush. He was beginning to see why people drank so much of it to drown their problems.  
  
"I think there was a fight, Dean," Colin added. "I saw Malfoy and some other Slytherins stumbling toward the hospital wing. Malfoy's face was covered with great flapping things."  
  
"That'd be Ginny's Bat-Bogey Hex," said Dean. He sat down in a chair and rubbed his temples. He wanted to talk to Ginny about Lennox Thomas. Instead, he returned to find her missing, possibly injured somewhere. It was too much. He covered his face with his hands.  
  
"Who's ready to celebrate!" shouted Seamus when he popped through the portal into the common room. He hushed immediately when he saw that celebration was the last thing on everyone's mind. Sheepishly, he found Dean by the fire and sat down. "Did somebody die?" he asked seriously. Parvati filled him in on the fate of McGonagall and their friends. The Gryffindors spent the rest of the night in a worried hush. Some held whispered conversations while others just sat, lost in their own anxious thoughts. One by one the students cleared off, and soon Dean and Seamus were the last ones still awake. Dean rose and headed for the portrait hole. Seamus followed.  
  
"What're you doing!" he hissed.  
  
"I'm not going to sit around here waiting anymore. Ginny and the rest could be hurt. I'm going to pay Malfoy a little visit." Dean was grim. Normally a cheerful, laid back person, he was a far cry from being himself as they stalked through the corridors. It took them well over an hour to reach the hospital wing. On several occasions they had to elude the skeletal Mrs. Norris. They got lost when they ducked down the corridor on the third floor when the caretaker, Argus Filch, was hot on their heels. By the time they drew near the hospital wing, dawn's pale glow could be seen through the windows. The din of some commotion could be heard coming from within.  
  
Seamus and Dean slipped inside. Their old Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, Professor Lupin and a tall, bald black man they did not know helped Ginny, Ron, Hermione, Neville, and (of all people) Luna Lovegood into beds. Madam Pomphrey buzzed from student to student muttering rather incoherently. Most of her concern was directed toward Hermione, who appeared to be unconscious. The two adults stayed out of her way, conversing between themselves in the corner. Seamus stopped at Neville's bed to see what went down and to give Dean and Ginny some privacy.  
  
Surprised delight lit Ginny's exhausted face when she saw Dean. She sat up, and Dean caught her in a bone-crushing embrace, so relieved and happy was he to see her safe. They didn't say anything for several moments. Dean inhaled the sweet citrus scent of her curly red hair. The comfort they found in each other's arms was well beyond words.   
  
"What's Ron going to say?" asked Dean as he looked at her brother. Ron stared down at his forearms with unfocused eyes. Nasty welts spiraled from his wrists up his arms. Mad fits of giggling occasionally took control of him. He seemed not to notice his sister hugging Dean at all. Ginny decided it was best to keep her and Dean's relationship a secret from Ron for the time being. Ginny said that she would handle breaking the news to her brother in the vague future. Dean was all for that.  
  
"Oh, I wouldn't worry about Ron right now. He's a bit delirious. I'm kinda glad, too. I mean Madam Pomfrey says he'll be okay, but I really don't feel like dealing with his 'big brother issues' right now. It's been a long night," she answered.  
  
"Same here," agreed Dean. It had indeed been a very long night.


End file.
